


Drawing a Blank [Page]

by boxofpigeons



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, bookstore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:29:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8824771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofpigeons/pseuds/boxofpigeons
Summary: It’s not that Jack doesn’t know how to use Google, despite what Bitty might think. But searching Google for a book when he can only remember that the cover was red and there was a number in the title isn't nearly as fun as having the cute bookseller at the bookstore by his apartment help him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on actual real life experiences. Minus the romance.  
> Thank you so much to my beta, [Z](www.bittyybee.tumblr.com), for helping me with this!

Jack pushes open the door to the tiny bookstore, and the man behind the counter jumps, slamming shut the textbook he had open on the desk in front of him. The man looks up at Jack and smiles, and—oh. 

He’s hot. 

“Hi! How are you doing today?” The man asks.

Jack nearly bumps into the spinner stand next to the door when he hears the accent that comes out of the man’s mouth. 

“I’m, um, fine, thanks.” Jack answers. “How are you?”

“Just great, thanks! Is there anything I can help you with?” 

There is, but Jack suddenly can’t remember what. What was he doing here? He looks around. Oh, right, a bookstore.

“I’m. Um. Looking for a book?” 

The man looks at him expectantly, then smiles. “Well you’re in the right place! Was it a specific one, or are you looking for a recommendation?”

It was a specific one, which Marty had been telling him about on the plane just the day before, but Jack finds that he suddenly can’t remember anything about it. 

“A specific one. A coworker recommended it the other day but I. Uh,” Jack ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck, chagrined. “I can’t remember the title. Or the author.” 

The man behind the counter laughs, and as soon as he stops, Jack is filled with the sudden need to make him do it again. “Well that’s alright, but do you remember anything about it? I’m gonna need some details to work my Google magic.”

Jack racks his brain. He knew the title and author just minutes before, but now there’s next to nothing. “It was nonfiction. History. It was about civilizations. Guns and something?” 

“Alright, that should be enough to start! If you’ll just give me a moment I can do some searching.” The man turns to the computer on the counter and starts diligently typing words into the search bar: “nonfiction book civiliza—” Jack turns away, deciding it might be weird to watch him search, and walks over to the table of nonfiction books by the front door. He barely has time to pick up a book before he hears a triumphant noise from behind him.

“I think I found it! _Guns, Germs, and Steel?”_

Jack grins. “Yes! That was it. Thank you. That was—wow. That was really fast. Do you have it?” 

The man purses his lips and types something into the keyboard, and then waits. After a moment, he says, “It doesn’t look like we have it in stock right now, but I can order a copy for you.” 

Jack thinks for a moment. He knows he can download it on his Kindle or order it from Amazon like he usually would and probably get it quicker (and cheaper, though that doesn’t matter to him), but Amazon doesn’t have cute clerks, at least not ones that he can see. And the man here had helped him find the book. And he knows that it’s important to shop local and support small businesses. Maybe the store was struggling. Maybe the man owned it. Maybe—

“Yeah, I’d like to do that. Thanks,” Jack says. 

“Alriiiiiight,” the man says, pulling up another window on his computer and typing something into the search bar on the new page. “Yep, it looks like it’s available. If you just give me your name and phone number, I’ll go ahead and order that for you.” 

Jack’s heart skips a beat. His phone number? The man behind the counter is interested, and he wants his number, and Jack won’t have to make the first move and—  
Oh. His number. So he can call him when his book came in. Of course. 

Jack gives it to him. 

“Perfect! That should be here by Wednesday, and we’ll give you a call when it arrives. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Um, no. That’s it.” Jack wishes that wasn’t it. “Thank you for your help finding it.”

“Oh, no problem at all! We can’t all be masters of Google.”

Jack leaves the shop with the distinct impression that he was being chirped.

* * *

Two days later, there’s a voicemail waiting on Jack’s phone when he’s walking to his car after practice. 

“Hi Mr. Zimmermann, this is Eric from Providence Books. I’m calling to let you know that your special order has arrived and we’ll be holding it for you behind the front desk. If you have any questions, our—” Jack doesn’t pay attention to the phone number, focusing more on the voice saying it. Eric.

Jack gets in his car and drives straight over to the bookstore. It doesn’t occur to him until he’s walking up to the door that maybe he’ll seem to eager picking up the book within an hour of getting the call that it had arrived. Maybe he should wait a day before getting it. Play it cool. Hard to get. Yeah, he’d come back the next day so Eric wouldn’t think he was sitting around waiting for a call. It would be—

Shit. Eric had seen him, and was waving to him through the window. 

No turning back now. Jack takes a deep breath and pushes open the door to the bookstore. 

“Hi, how are you doing today?” Eric greets him. 

“Good, thank you. How are you?” 

“Great, thanks!” Eric is already turning to the large shelf of books behind him, and pulls a book out after glancing at a few of the slips of paper sticking out from the tops of the books. “Here you are, Mr. Zimmermann,” he says, and scans the book into the register and then places it on the counter in front of him. “That’ll be $17.28.” 

Jack pulls a twenty out of his wallet and hands it to Eric. Eric hums as he presses a few keys and counts out Jack’s change. “Alright, there you go,” he says, handing Jack his change. “Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

There wasn’t, but Jack finds that he really doesn’t want to leave the store just yet. 

“Yes. There’s another book I need help finding,” Jack says. Shit. Now he’s going to have to come up with a book and look like an idiot again. 

“Ok! Any chance you remember the name or author of this one?” 

“Um, no. Sorry.” Jack searches his brain for any book he’s ever seen and been remotely interested in reading. He should be able to come up with plenty, but his mind’s blank. 

“Ok, was it another history book?” Eric asks.

Jack suddenly remembers one. Well, vaguely remembers one that he had seen at Shitty’s house and been interested in reading. “Uh, yes. It was US history. There was a flag on the cover. Something about a mirror.” 

“Ok! I’ll do some searching and see what I can come up with for you,” Eric says, already turning to his computer. 

Jack looks around and finds the section labeled “History,” and heads over to it. He’s flipping through a book about the Crimean war when he hears Eric call out to him. Jack pokes his head out from around a bookshelf.

“ _A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America_?” Eric asks him.

Jack isn’t entirely sure, but it sounds right, so he tells Eric yes.

“It doesn’t look like we have that one in stock, but I can order it for you if you’d like.”  
Jack tells him that yes, he’d like that.

“Alright Mr. Zimmermann, that should be in Friday. We’ll give you a call when it arrives!”  
“Jack,” Jack says, suddenly.

“What?” Bitty asks. 

“You can call me Jack,” Jack says.

Bitty grins. “Alright then, Jack, we’ll give you a call when it arrives.”

“Great. Thank you, Eric,” Jack says. Would Eric think it was weird that he had remembered his name from the voicemail?

Jack doesn’t get an answer to that, but Eric shakes his head. “Nope, if I’m calling you Jack then you’re calling me Bitty,” he says seriously.

Jack grins. Eric wants him to call him by his nickname—that has to be a good sign, right? “Bitty?” Jack asks. “Is it because you’re—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Bitty says, mock threateningly. “Not everyone can be a giant. And if you must know, it was a hockey nickname.”

Jack perks up even more at that. “You play? I play for the—”

Bitty laughs and cuts him off. “I know who you are, Jack. It took me a minute to place you when you first walked in but your name was a little bit of a clue when you gave it to me.”

Oh. Good. That was already out of the way, then. Jack smiles. “Ok, well, thank you Bitty. I’ll see you in a few days then.”

“Bye, Jack! Have a great day!” Bitty waves to him as he walks out the door. 

Jack smiles to himself as he steps out onto the pavement and starts thinking of more books he can order.

* * *

It becomes a pattern. Jack nearly every day that he’s actually in Providence, either to pick up a book or order a new one. Usually both. He stops by the store, grabs a coffee from Lardo, the barista who works in the small café in the back of the store, and heads up to the front counter where he gives Bitty the vague details about the latest book he wants to read. Sometimes he’s able to give Bitty the title or author, but he usually doesn’t press himself too hard, preferring instead to let Bitty chirp him for his bad memory and underdeveloped Google abilities. 

“I listened to an interview with the author on The Diane Rehm Show on my way to work this morning. The author was Paul something. Fiction.”

“I checked it out from the library for a paper I wrote in high school. It was about the Spanish Civil War? There was a Spanish word in the title and the cover had a woman on it.” 

“It’s about daily life in a medieval French village.”

“I swear, Mr. Zimmermann, one of these days I’m going to teach you how to Google your own darn books,” Bitty tells him, smiling. 

It’s not that Jack doesn’t know how to use Google, despite what Bitty might think. But Google doesn’t gently chirp him when Jack can only remember that the cover of the book was red, and Google doesn’t smile and look pleased with itself when it helps him find a book with only the clue that there was a year in the title. Plus, Jack isn’t nearly as fast as Bitty is at searching. 

Jack learns that this is because Bitty is a grad student, so he’s used to doing research online and is skilled at choosing the perfect keywords to find what he’s looking for. He learns that Bitty went to Samwell, which is how he originally ended up in New England, despite being from Georgia. He learns that Bitty usually doesn’t know the books that Jack’s looking for off the top of his head because he tends to read young adult novels and food writing. 

Jack learns these things while leaning by the front counter, or idly browsing the shelves in the store while chatting with Bitty. The books pile up in a stack in his apartment, which Shitty had eyed the stack of books suspiciously the last time he visited before turning to Jack with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Jack asked. “I have lots of time to kill on roadies.”

“And did your Kindle break or something?” Shitty asked, unconvinced.

“I. Um. Like to support small independent businesses?” Jack offers. 

“Alright brah, but we’re going to Ikea to get you a new bookshelf.” 

Jack’s library continues to grow, and that’s good, because he does have a lot of free time for reading on busses and planes. But it’s also a reminder of every time he’s gone into Providence Books and failed to ask Bitty out. He’s…fairly sure the attraction is mutual, given the way that Bitty will leave his textbook forgotten on the counter for an hour in favor of talking to Jack when the store is slow, and there was that one time that Jack’s pretty sure he caught Bitty checking him out. But Jack doesn’t know how to approach the subject.

Jack is broken out of his reverie by Lardo setting two mugs of coffee, one black and one filled with cream and pumpkin flavor, on the counter. Jack stuffs a ten dollar bill in the tip jar after she waves away his offer of payment.

“So what’s the book today?” Lardo asks him.

“Um, uh—” Jack usually has no real plan for what he orders before approaching the front counter, when he chooses something from the nebulous bank of vague book details in his head, because Jack has found that Bitty smiles the widest and chirps him the most on those occasions. 

Lardo smirks. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She turns away, not giving Jack an opportunity to respond or defend himself, and Jack walks away and towards the front of the store where Bitty is sitting at the counter.

Bitty looks up from his textbook when Jack sets the mug on the counter. “Hey, Jack!” He greets him. “How’s your day goin’?”

“Not bad, Bitty. Thanks. How’s yours?”

“Same as always! It’s been pretty slow around here, so—” he gestures at the book in front of him. “Anyway. What’ll it be today?”

Jack thinks for a moment. “It’s about the history of paper. Pretty recent book.”

Bitty laughs, “I don’t think I have to do a search to tell you that that one would probably be _Paper_. Seriously, Mr. Zimmermann. One word.”

Jack chuckles, and shrugs.

“We actually have that one in stock. Let me go grab it for you.” Bitty leaves the counter and searches a shelf for the book. He hums while he looks. “Found it!” He exclaims, pulling a hardcover from the shelf. He returns to his station behind the counter with the book, and hands it to Jack. “Anything else you need?”

Jack almost says no. He really almost does. But—

“Do you want to get coffee some time?” Jack looks down at the cup of coffee in his hand, and the mug sitting on the counter in front of Bitty. Shit. “I mean, not here. Here would be fine too, obviously you have coffee here and that would be fine but I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere else—”

“Jack.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m totally cornering you at work, aren’t I, and Shitty told me that’s a really shitty thing to do, cornering retail workers at work where they can’t say no and they—”

“Jack,” Bitty says again, louder this time.

Jack breaths, and pauses.

“I’d love to get coffee with you,” Bitty says, smiling.

“You would?” 

“I would,” he says, smile growing. “And maybe I can teach you how to use Google.”

Jack smiles. “I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> support your local independent bookstore


End file.
